


Adornment

by Stormvoël (BushRat8)



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Cape Horn, Earrings, F/M, Jewelry, Sailor's Earring Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:43:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BushRat8/pseuds/Stormvo%C3%ABl
Summary: One evening, Barbossa explains to the innkeeper how and why he acquired his earrings.  Short and sweet.





	Adornment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [walkwithursus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkwithursus/gifts).



> The forward portion of Barbossa's hair hides all but the large tooth earring he wears. But he's a sailor, and sailor's earring lore dictates that he should wear others.
> 
> Gifted to WalkWithUrsus as a nod to the excellent Barbossa/Jack story _Death Roll of the American Crocodile._ The title intrigued me, so I studied the range of crocodiles versus alligators in the Americas (I mistakenly thought we only had alligators), and discovered that large crocs were quite a threat in Hispaniola. By comparison, our alligators seem to be rather tame. I recall one large alligator in Florida many years ago, fondly named Aunt Helen by the locals, that used to amble onto golf courses and eat the golf balls. She was quite the celebrity and even the golfers didn't much mind, but eventually, some jackass shot her.

 

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

 

 

The innkeeper turns, settling comfortably in Barbossa's arms, and walks her fingers up his chest and neck.  "Tell me about this,"  she says, touching the point of the large tooth that dangles from a heavy silver hoop piercing his right earlobe.  "I don't know why I never asked you before, and surely such remarkable jewelry has a story."  
  
He chuckles and kisses the tip of her nose.  "Oh aye, Dove, but I ain't certain it be for such delicate ears as yers."  
  
"Why?  Did a woman give it to you?"  
  
"Darlin'!"  Barbossa gives the innkeeper a playful swat on the cheek.  "None of that, or I'll be rethinkin' yer sensibilities."  He kisses her deeply, for indeed a woman ended up being involved, but that's a part of the story he'll be fibbing about, and in the meantime, a bit of distraction never hurt.  "Now,"  he begins, licking his lips.  
  
"It were years ago in Hispaniola, long afore I'd met ye, when there came a row as t' how another cap'n just lost a man, eaten from stem t' stern by th' biggest crocodile been seen in those parts for years.  The man were his brother's son, an' he were in grief o'er it;  said a reward should be given t' anyone as could kill the beast, hack off its head, an' bring him th' hide.  Bein' too drunk t' know 'twould ha' been better t' say I'd hack off the devil's horns an' bring back his tail, I volunteered;  said I'd bring th' croc to him, head, hide, an' all.  
  
"Well."  Barbossa winces.  "M' biggest mistake were huntin' th' creature in th' dark, a-thinkin' I might sneak up on it.  But one good look in th' torchlight almost sent me runnin', an' that be a fact:  when I saw them cold, squinty eyes an' scaly snout full of long, chompin' teeth, I…"  _Near soiled m'self!!_   is what he's not about to say even as he feels his belly grumble and threaten to grow loose at the frightful recall.  "Naught much really scares me, but that did;  an' I don't run from danger, but if e'er I were tempted, that were th' time.  Still, I'd shook on a bargain that I'd hunt it down, an' me word be somethin' I don't e'er go back on."  
  
"Oh my Lord, Hector!"  
  
"Aye, that too."  His laugh is rueful.  "Bain't in m' habit t' do much prayin', but that night, I burnt God's ears off beggin' that I'd survive."  Barbossa huddles closer to the innkeeper, as if to assure himself that he really _is_ alive and abed with his warm, pretty woman.  "Took a shot at th' beast, but when that didn't stop it, an' I saw m' sword were too light t' do any damage t' that tough hide, I knew then I'd have t' be gettin' up in its ugly face wi' m' knife."  
  
The innkeeper's terrified by the picture in her head and not sure that she wants to hear any more.  "Hector, no!"  she whispers, holding him tight to keep any spectral crocodiles at bay.  
  
"Oh, aye,"  says Barbossa, rolling his eyes, determined to finish his story.  "I danced wi' th' goddamn thing while it snapped an' snarled, tryin' t' keep it from gettin' too close an' tearin' m' throat out, an' there were more'n one moment when I thought I were doomed…"  
  
"Hector!!!"  
  
"… 'til I don't know how, but I found m'self sittin' athwart th' demon's back.  Stuck m' knife down th' top of its head, then, an' pushed an' pushed, 'til I were up t' me elbows in blood an' it were finally done for."  Barbossa fingers his earring.  "Afore I took th' carcass back, I pried out one of th' biggest teeth for a trophy.  I thought at first t' wear it 'round me neck, but then I bethought meself of a silver hoop I had in m' shares.  Been wearin' it tied t' that ring e'er since."  
  
The innkeeper touches both hard tooth and ring, and the tender flesh of Barbossa's earlobe.  "Who pierced your ear?"  she asks.  
  
"Dunno;  some member of th' crew as was known t' be good at it,"  he replies with a shrug, although it's a lie he knew he'd be telling, as it was actually pierced by the woman the grateful captain bought for him, saying she was his for whatever and as long as he wanted.  
  
The innkeeper's going on, brushing Barbossa's long hair back to reveal his other ear, embellished with two small gold-beaded hoops, and a third, slightly wider circlet.  "And these?"  
  
Barbossa smiles proudly.  "'Tis t' commem'rate voyagin' 'round Cape Horn.  Got me first loop for makin' passage from th' South China seas back home t' th' Caribbean — 'tis in th' left, ye see, for that were th' ear as faced th' land — an' another for roundin' th' Cape of Good Hope.  Th' beads be for makin' those jouneys again an' again, else me ear would be no more flesh, but metal, for bein' full up wi' holes."  
  
"And this one?  It looks special."  
  
It's the smooth, wide hoop the innkeeper's touching, and Barbossa doesn't quite lie, but omits the answer to what she's asking, out of kindness in not wishing to make her uneasy.  "It were in me shares like th' silver, an' I just liked it."  He smiles, pressing his forehead to hers.  "Now come, Dove, an' give us a kiss…"  
  
What he isn't saying to his sweetheart is that it's the most important adornment of all, for inside is engraved the names of Grantham House and the island it sits on, as well as the innkeeper's name and his own.  If he should be found drowned or washed up ashore, it tells of his home port and the loved one to whom he wishes his body returned, if at all possible;  at the very least, another ship's captain will know that a sorrowful woman watches the horizon and waits for him when the words are said that give Barbossa properly back to the sea.  And if on land, a parson will realize that the innkeeper's name should be invoked as the dead man's beloved when the earring pays for a decent burial, no matter in what strange or distant place it may be.

 

  
  
  
  
  
-oOo-  FIN  -oOo-


End file.
